My Mother among the roses...

I love Spring!  Spring is fresh and new.  Green buds suddenly appear on grey, lifeless limbs.  Buds poke through the snow defying the old and cold.  The air smells fresh and spring rains reveal the hidden and lost.  Spring flowers are banners of perseverance and survival.  The hearty bulbs having survived the bitter burst forth in majestic color and sweet scent.  I enjoy roses and other flora, but tulips are my absolute favorite!  Tulips with their bright reds and pinks remind me of Springtimes past.  When I was a little girl, I  would gaze in fascination and reverent joy at mother’s beautiful tulip beds.  Her flower beds were always amazing!  She would allow me pick one or two every year, wrap them in moist paper towels and give it as a gift to my teacher.  It was such a precious gift and an honor to deliver them to the teachers that I adored.

My Mother among the daffodils...

My Mother among the daffodils...



I discovered the poem, “Daffodils,” by Williams Wordsworth decades ago, but it still sings my heart.  The poem is about a field of beautiful, yellow daffodils.  When I read this poem, I feel like a little girl again dancing in the light spring rain among my strong-willed floral friends.  Join me as I am DANCING WITH DAFFODILS…

One Comment to “Springtime”

  1. Lovely post, beautiful imagery… I can’t wait to read more!

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